


Reverse-Bridezilla

by melonbutterfly



Category: Star Trek RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-08-11
Updated: 2009-08-11
Packaged: 2017-10-12 23:44:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/130474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melonbutterfly/pseuds/melonbutterfly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris is about to marry Zoe, Zach is their best man and none of them are happy - luckily, things don't go as planned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reverse-Bridezilla

**Author's Note:**

> From this (http://community.livejournal.com/trek_rpf_kink/1765.html?thread=2033125#t2033125) prompt from the trek_rpf_kink meme.

_Damn_ , Zach thought and downed another shot.

One week. He had one week and then Chris would be forever unreachable, unless he and Zoe broke up, but he wasn't down enough to wish that on his friends. So far he had managed to more or less keep himself from resenting Zoe; it wasn't her fault. She was beautiful and great, he understood why Chris loved her, most certainly understood why she loved Chris. And that they were doing this so quickly, so suddenly, so soon after only three months of relationship—that meant they loved each other a lot, yes? It had to.

And so far it had been okay, it had been alright, Zach had been able to deal with it. He loved Chris with all his heart, and it was more important that Chris was happy than that he was happy with him—though of course Zach would have preferred that, but it obviously wasn't meant to be. He had known that, had accepted that—or so he had thought. Even Chris telling him that they were getting married hadn't changed that.

Until this evening. Somehow, for some reason it had suddenly become too much; he hadn't been able to deal with it anymore and that was why he was now sitting in front of his liquor cabinet, drinking his way through it with a shot glass.

 _Damn_.

+

To say the wedding party was getting uneasy would have been an understatement. Everyone was whispering more or less secretly, no doubt spouting wild speculations. The bridesmaids looked vaguely panicked, Chris' best man (and his best friend, otherwise also known as Zachary Quinto) was shifting on his feet and trying not to look at Chris—that seemed a common phenomena that day; somehow everyone had suddenly developed the same eye problem that caused their eyes to shift over him as if he were a black hole that'd suck them in if they looked at him for too long—and just generally people seemed worried.

Except for Chris, the groom. He was looking completely relaxed, sitting on the bench he and Zoe had been supposed to kneel on (much to the consternation of the priest, who switched between looking genuinely worried, vaguely annoyed and slightly suspicious) and watching everyone calmly. His wedding; this had been supposed to be his wedding. His and Zoe's. Only it seemed she was pulling a runaway bride on him. Which bothered him a lot less than it should; actually, it was kind of amusing, especially the way their guests avoided looking at him and how Zoe's relatives seemed especially uncomfortable. The only one in the whole church who didn't seem worried was Karl, who had been staring at him from the moment he had entered, suspicion in his eyes growing and growing until it had developed into a hard, heavy stare. Chris avoided looking at him because it reminded him too much of Bones, and he found Bones amusing, and if he looked at Karl now he'd no doubt hear something funny in his head (something along the lines of "Damnit, Jim, I'm a doctor, not a-") and then he'd laugh, and that seemed a little… well, inappropriate.

Zoe was twenty minutes late when his mobile phone vibrated noiselessly in his pocket; Chris pulled it out and flipped it open, earning several glances ranging from horrified to… well, horrified because he as the groom had a mobile in his pocket and had no qualms to use it. "Yes?"

A hush ran through the guests as they pretended not to stare at him, but were blatantly doing just that.

"Hey Chris," came Zoe's voice. His mobile had a good isolation so nobody else would understand her, but maybe Zach could recognise her voice; he was the only one standing close enough. "You may have guessed already, I'm not coming."

"Hm. Where are you?"

"Right now, I'm just about to board the next flight to _away_ I could get, and people are staring at me because I'm wearing a wedding dress."

"Cute. You have your credit cards?"

"Of course!" She sounded offended. "How headless do you take me for? I also have my passport and my mobile phone, obviously. No need to worry. Listen, I have no idea where this flight is going, but I don't care, and neither do you. This was a stupid idea, a crappy idea, and we both knew it all along but were too cowardly to not go through with it. Until now. The sex was great, Chris, and I do love you, but I think there is more love in me to give than I have for you—and you, well. We both know that I'm not the person you love most in the whole universe. So this is what you're going to do: you tell them I got cold feet—which is true, I don't know what I was thinking when I decided put on these shoes in _February_ —and then send them over to the reception hall and have them raid the buffet. Hopefully they'll all get drunk and not beat each other up. It's a good thing we invited only close friends and family, eh?"

Chris grinned. "And may I remind you that was my idea?"

"Yeah, you smug bastard. Anyways, I'll call you back when I am wherever this machine is flying to. Maybe. We'll see where that is; if it's not warm you're so going to pay for my flight to Egypt. I've always wanted to see the pyramids."

"Egypt? You're going to pull a runaway on me for three thousand years old corpses? Lovely." He ignored the loud gasps and whispers that immediately broke out in the church.

"I am, absolutely. You can name your firstborn after me, baby. Now go and do what I told you to."

Rolling his eyes, Chris closed his phone and stood. Immediately everyone was silent again, staring at him with wide eyes. He raised an eyebrow. "So, you guys probably noticed already; Zoe's fulfilling her biggest dream ever since she saw Spiderman 2 and is re-enacting the part where Kirsten Dunst pulls a runaway on her astronaut and runs in her wedding dress through New York. Only she's not running through NY and she's also not going to throw herself in the arms of a mutant spiderboy, but you get my drift. So here's the plan: we'll all go to the reception hall and eat all that ridiculously posh, expensive stuff she and I paid for already and then get ridiculously drunk. You can start to bug me with questions there."

At first nobody moved, but slowly, people started to get up and shuffle out of the church. Outside they exploded into speculations, Chris could hear; he was watching them and waiting until they were all gone.

He didn't notice Zach furrow his brow and reach for his own mobile phone on the way out.

+

"Hey, Zach-a-baby, this is Zoe."

Zach took a deep breath, trying to keep calm, and failed. "What the fuck, Zoe?!" At least he managed to keep his voice vaguely low.

"Oh, don't be angry with me, this is a lot less bad than you think. Didn't you see Chris' expression? Didn't he look way too calm for someone whose bride skipped out on him? Didn't he actually look kind of relieved?"

Zach was silent. He had noticed all that, but had thought he had been wrong, had interpreted too much into the situation, had seen what he so desperately wanted to see.

"Thought so. No; this is the best decision I have ever made concerning me and Chris. Don't angst yourself into thinking anything else; Chris is as relieved as I am that we're not going through with this. Now, I am going to give you the possibility to get something you've been wanting for a very long time, but never dared to get; you can thank me or yell at me later. This is what you're going to do: you're going to go into my hotel room; I left two key cards at the reception for you. You will go to my room and right in the middle of the bed, you'll find two flight tickets to St. Tropez, one for you, one for Chris, as well as a key and a security code. You're flying tomorrow morning, six am; that's early enough so most of the paps—who no doubt will get wind of this—most likely won't catch you. In St. Tropez airport you'll get picked up by an absolutely discreet driver waiting for you; he'll drive you to my beach house. You have the keys and the security code; I already had someone go food shopping, you'll find everything you need to survive for two weeks there. You'll lock the door behind you and have flaming hot sex for two weeks. By the telephone is a number of someone you can call if you need any fresh supplies, like vegetables or fruits. They're old friends of mine and completely discreet, and they speak English. Now, until tomorrow, six am… Chris will most certainly not be at the reception. His hotel room is cancelled, mine is by the way not but he thinks that, he has no other choice but go to the suite that was booked for both of us. That's what the other key card the hotel reception will give you is for. You'll get in there and fuck Chris' brains out until he can't think in two-syllable-words anymore, because you love him but never dared to tell him until you thought it was too late, and because he loves you but never dared to acknowledge it even to himself.

"That is one option. The other is you tell me to fuck off, throw your phone into the next wall and walk away from this. But be aware, Zach, that you're not only going to smash your own heart but Chris' as well, if you do that. I love you. Bye!"

The line went dead.

+

Zach had managed not to smash his phone—and fuck, this was the first time in all his life, ever, that he had felt the impulse to actually do so; how could Zoe have known that?—but only just. Adrenaline was coursing through his veins, his heart was pounding loud in his ears and his head was reeling with the overwhelming rush of thoughts that he couldn't quite process yet.

That's when he saw Chris walk towards the limousine that was originally meant to drive him and Zoe to the hotel, and his control snapped.

+

Chris had waited until everyone, really everyone had left; he had been a little confused and disappointed that Zach had been gone as well, but there was nothing he could do about it now. He certainly wasn't going to the reception to look for him; he wouldn't manage to get a word out until he'd be ambushed by relatives and friends alike, and he really didn't feel like that at all, right now. Instead he planned to get back to the hotel, get rid of this stuffy suit and have a nice, hot bath in the Jacuzzi, eat ice cream and analyse his confusingly overwhelming relief. And how it was that Zoe knew so much more about him than even he himself knew, and why it was he didn't love such an exceptional woman as much as she deserved—and how amazing it was that she didn't seem to be angry at him for that at all. How amazing _she_ was. And how amazing that he, while having greatly enjoyed the sex and the relationship as well, felt absolutely no regret or disappointment that they were over.

Pushing all these thoughts away again for later analysis, he walked over to their limousine, waved at Balsa, their driver, who waved back, and got into the vehicle. The car started rolling as soon as he sat but stopped again; the next moment, the door was opened and Zach slid into the limousine.

Chris would have noticed that they started driving again, but he was entirely and completely distracted by the dark, dangerous look on Zach's face.

" _You_ ," he said, and for one short, ridiculous moment Chris had the fleeting thought that this was Sylar, not Zach. Which was of course utter crap, but he wasn't responsible for the images his subconscious came up with.

His subconscious didn't get the chance to come up with anything else, though, and neither did his conscious for that matter, because suddenly Zach pounced on him like a man possessed. Before he had the time to react, two strong hands grabbed his face and pulled his head towards Zach's, their mouths crashing together with almost bruising force. He gasped, and Zach appeared to take that as an offer because suddenly, there was a hot tongue in his mouth and it tasted of coffee and the faint bitter tang of a cigarette, and beneath of that was the taste of human, of uniquely Zach. Chris distantly heard a muffled, desperate moan and realised it came from him; the next moment he had wrapped his arms around Zach's neck already and was pulling him closer, let himself sink horizontal on the backseat, Zach sliding on top of him. This time, the moan he heard wasn't from him, and it sent shivers down his spine into the small of his back.

And then Zach pulled away, his hands on both sides of Chris' head, and stared down at him, face twisted in anger and disbelief and desperation and _hunger_. Oh, Zach looked like he was literally starving, and a little like someone had just presented his favourite dish to him and he didn't know how to eat it, because if he was too impatient it would be over too soon, and if he was too slow—well, he was _hungry_. Slowness was not an option.

Zach seemed to come to the same conclusion for he descended on him again, mouths mashing, sucking all his breath right out of his lungs; Chris could only whine helplessly and bury his hand in Zach's hair to prevent him from pulling back again. But it seemed that wasn't even necessary; Zach's hands were pulling at his suit and button-down-shirt, no doubt wrinkling it beyond repair, but that was the last thing Chris cared about right now. And then Zach's hands were under his shirt, on his naked skin, and the last traces of rational thought fled his mind.

Not stalling for one second, Zach immediately went for his nipples; he pulled at them and Chris squeaked, then moaned when he twisted them less-than-gently. Zach's tongue was forcing his back into his mouth and Chris submitted, completely aware of what he, what _they_ were doing. And then Zach pulled away _again_

"You," he panted, and Chris whined, opening his eyes to look up to him. It made Zach curse, and that made Chris proud, for Zach never cursed. He licked his lips and opened his mouth to say something, but Zach interrupted him. "We can't do this here," he said and glared at him as if it were his fault.

Chris didn't pretend for one second he didn't know what he meant. "Why?", he whined, and Zach's eyes flared. He leant down again, tilted Chris face up and growled, "Because we have no lube and if I fuck you now, you won't be able to walk straight for a week."

His eyes glazed over and his hips twitched; Zach hissed when he pushed their crotches together. Then Chris blinked; he suddenly remembered- "Wait-" he wriggled away from Zach, who put his hands possessively on his hips but let him, and reached over for the door pocket. Zoe had mentioned something- there. Grinning triumphantly, he took the tube of hand cream he had found and a condom and pushed them into Zach's hands. Zach glanced down at them and suddenly the dark look in his eyes was back with full force. " _You_ ," he snarled and pulled Chris down roughly, joined their lips again. It was messy and wet and Chris loved it; when Zach started to pull at his belt he quickly reached down and did the same for Zach, pushed his pants and underwear with them down, mirroring Zach's actions. They both wriggled out of their pants and then immediately pushed their hips into each other, groaned when their cocks rubbed together. Chris reached down to wrap his hand around them, jerked roughly, and Zach twitched, then grabbed his knees and pushed them. "Up," he ordered unceremoniously, and Chris obeyed, eyes wide and impatient. He licked his lips when he heard Zach open the tube and grabbed his knees, pulled them close to his body to give Zach the perfect view and angle.

Zach didn't hesitate for one moment, didn't play around; he simply pushed one finger into Chris, gave him barely enough time to adjust before he let it be followed by the second, then the third finger. He was walking the line between pleasant pain and real discomfort, but he never quite crossed it—and it drove Chris crazy, he could tell. His whimpers and moans and whines were loud in the car and they, in turn, pushed Zach close to the edge; as soon as he deemed Chris ready enough he pulled out, slid the condom over his cock and slicked himself. And then, and then he finally pushed into Chris; they both groaned loudly. But Zach didn't give them a moment to adjust; he immediately pulled out and slammed back into Chris, setting a quick, hard rhythm that had Chris reduced will-less within seconds. His thrusts were sharp and unforgiving; he punishing him for all the pain and sadness and hurt Chris had caused in him, and he was _so angry_ because it had apparently been completely unnecessary. And that Zoe had known or at least suspected spoke volumes on how obvious it had apparently been—obvious to her, obvious maybe to Chris as well, because Zach had never tried that hard to hide his feelings, at least not from him.

So unnecessary.

"Zach-", Chris choked suddenly; his voice was hoarse and he was trembling, twitching underneath him, looking up with his blue eyes round and wide and pleading, and Zach growled and reached down, grabbed his cock in a hard grip. Just three jerks later Chris came, throwing his head back and howling; with that and the clenching of his body around his cock he pulled Zach into an orgasm so hard he almost blacked out.

Or maybe he actually did, because when he came to he was lying on Chris chest, who was running shaky fingers through his hair. His whole body was trembling, actually, and, worry starting to pull him out of his post-orgasm haze, he pushed up to look at Chris. The moment their eyes met Chris threw his arms around him and buried his face in his collarbone; his legs wrapped around Zach's hip and he literally clung to him. A shudder ran through Chris' body and he started to whisper something; first too quiet for Zach to understand, but he said it again and again, louder and louder each time, until Zach could make out the words- "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry-"

"Chris, no-", he started to say, tightening his own grip on Chris, but Chris pulled away again and looked at him with watery eyes full of misery and guilt and pain. "Zach, I'm so sorry, please forgive me, I didn't- I'm sorry, please, I'm sorry-"

"Stop, stop! Chris," Zach put his hands on Chris' cheeks. "It's okay, it's as much my fault as it's yours, and we're okay now, we're fine, Zoe saved us. It's alright, we're fine. Stop."

Chris ran the tip of his tongue over his upper lip, a nervous gesture of his, and lowered his gaze. "I didn't mean to, Zach, I really didn't mean to."

"I know. I know." He gave Chris a soft, lingering kiss, trying to reassure him. "We were both stupid. We should have talked, but we were too cowardly to."

Chris gave a small laugh. "Zoe said something similar when she told me why she wasn't coming. Seems I'm a coward at all fronts, eh?"

"Possibly." Zach shrugged. "It doesn't matter now. Zoe's got it all planned out, we're going to France and spend two weeks at her beach house."

"What? She gave us her beach house? Whoa." Chris was amazed. "She really saved us, didn't she?"

Zach raised an eyebrow. "Obviously. Now, the car has been standing for ten minutes already, we should get dressed and continue this at the hotel, don't you agree?"

Chris did.


End file.
